


Visceral

by reassembleme



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Halloween fic!, I've accepted the headcanon that Lance's name is Serrano so that's the name I use here!, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Nurse Keith (Voltron), Smut, Vampire Lance (Voltron), Vampire Sex, Witch Keith (Voltron), tagging that for the second chapter hsfgahsa, will change the rating when it's up - there's a brief mention of it in a flashback here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 23:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reassembleme/pseuds/reassembleme
Summary: After years of working together, Keith finally goes out with Dr. Lance Serrano. It was amazing (a little too amazing), so what's wrong?





	Visceral

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a fun little fic for Halloween! I really wanted to write vampire!Lance, so I hope you enjoy! Happy Halloween!!

The hospital halls are still, near silent compared to the bustle of the day. It’s so different at night, everything amplified. The lights are too bright, the soft beeping of the machines too loud, and he thinks, not for the first time, that these shifts were a mistake.

He walks with purposeful strides, hoping the pace keeps him sharp. Every so often, he’ll pass another tired nurse and they’ll share a small tired smile. As Keith makes his rounds with heavy eyes, regret tinges every step he takes. He’s thankful most of his patients are asleep, useless as he is tonight. Amongst them, only one is ever up at this time and he smiles as he thinks of her. Mrs. Yoon is recovering from a hip surgery a few days ago, and her amiable nature is contagious. He passes Dr. Serrano’s office on the way to her room, though, and he fights the urge to cringe. He hurries his pace, but suddenly stops. Quickly, he checks the confusion he’d laid on it. Satisfied that it’s secured, he continues his stride.

Keith is absolutely not avoiding Lance. Why would he be avoiding Lance? That’s ridiculous. And no, he hasn’t spelled Lance’s office door to distract him whenever he tries to leave with the intention of finding Keith. That’s childish at best, and a waste of magic at worst, absolutely beneath him. And _no_ , he isn’t suffering through graveyard shifts, which he hates, because Lance isn’t in at night.

He sighs deeply. He’s pathetic.

Keith yawns, stretching his arms over his head to shed some of his fatigue. He pulls his phone out of his maroon scrubs, groans when he sees two in the morning staring him in the face. _Two more hours._ He shakes his head to clear it, continuing his rounds.

Something connects with his shoulder and he yelps, whirling around to greet a laughing Hunk.

“Ha ha, very funny, asshole,” he says, straightening himself.

“You should be paying more attention! I see your adjustment to the night shift is going well,” he says, a grin on his face. Keith scowls at him. “Have you even been following the tips I gave you?”

“Sure I have,” he says, looks away. “Kind of.”

Hunk laughs again, shaking his head.

“Dude just get back to your old schedule. Seeing Lance again won’t kill you.”

“And what if it does?” Keith asks, too quickly. Hunk rolls his eyes.

“Anyway, I just saw Mrs. Yoon. She asked about how you and ‘ _that handsome young doctor_ ’ are doing,” he says, mimicking her inflection.

“I actually hate you.”

“Go home, man. That was your last patient, I’ve got you covered. Sleep it off, think about it,” he says, those stupid kind eyes of his glittering at Keith. Keith squints at him, but relents. He shoots him a quick _thank you_ before walking off.

_I’ve got to get my shit together._

 

* * *

 

Keith wakes slowly, blinking against the late afternoon sun streaking across his face, still in his scrubs. He groans, turning his head into his pillow and stretching. He stares at his ceiling for a few heavy moments before forcing himself up and out of the bed. With great effort, he strips off the scrubs and pulls on a pair of flannel pants. He hates this, too, this waking in the middle of the day. Time blurs into something intangible when days begin as the evenings do.

He pulls his hair back into a loose ponytail, trekking it to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. He stares at the coffee pot, lost in thought as it fills.

_“So, do you have a problem with me being a vampire? If so, tell me now because a) that’s racist? And b) I’m pretty sure I’ll have to let HR know. About your racism, that is,” he says, laughter in his eyes. Keith rolls his, a light smile on his lips._

_“Is that how racism works? Wouldn’t it be like… specism? Aren’t you a doctor, shouldn’t you know the difference?” He says, and Lance sputters. Before he can answer, Keith says, “Anyway, there are plenty of things about you to have a problem with, and none of them are the vampire thing.” He pauses, wine in his blood and inhibition out the door._

_“If anything, I think it’s pretty cool,” he says, his gaze flitting away from Lance. From the corner of his eye, he sees a slow smile spread on his lips._

_“Oh, yeah?”_

The machine beeps at the same time his phone vibrates in his hand, and Keith jolts. He exhales and leans back against the counter, raising a hand as his favorite mug flies from the cabinet and gently lands next to the machine. Another flick of his hand, and the coffee pours itself. He’s idly stirring an, as Hunk calls it, alarming amount of sugar into it as he reads the text from Pidge.

 **_gremlin:_ ** still on for movie night?

Keith blinks, realizing he forgot he was off today. Relief seeps into his shoulders as he looks to the fridge with a grin, calling forth the milk to pour itself into the mug. Keith taps out his reply as he reaches for his coffee.

 **_firelordzuko:_ ** okay but we’re not watching ragnorak again

 

* * *

 

They’re watching Ragnorak again. Keith suspects it’s because Pidge resonates with both The Grandmaster and Loki; he still hasn’t figured which is more unnerving.

His phone goes off with a text from Lance about halfway through, and Pidge turns to him with a glint in her eye.

“...What?”

“Look at your face, you’re in love with him,” she says. Keith chokes on his popcorn, eyes wide.

“Don’t be stupid, Pidge. I’m not in love with Lance Serrano,” Keith says before shoving more popcorn into his mouth, sliding a cool expression over his face. Keith carefully keeps his gaze on the screen, where Jeff Goldblum is giving Tom Hiddleston a Look. From the far side of the couch, Pidge laughs.

“ _Sure_ . Why don’t you just answer him then? Tell him ‘thanks but no thanks’ and be done with it? _He was obviously a shit lay,_ ” Pidge says, a shitty grin on her face. She quirks an eyebrow, and Keith knows she’s just trying to get a rise out of him. Keith scoffs, flicking his hand to send popcorn flying in her direction. She laughs, stands to top off the now empty bowl between them.

“Horrible waste of magic!” She says, calling out from the kitchen.

“You’re a horrible waste of magic,” he says, flushing because damn it he’s frustrated and not making sense. And mostly, because Lance had been anything but a “shit lay,” as Pidge so tactfully put.

He glances at the unopened text on his phone, mildly impressed that Lance is still trying, honestly. He groans, wishing he hadn’t tossed all the popcorn so he could shove some more into his mouth.

The date wasn’t _bad_. Actually, it was exactly what he’d hoped for and then some. Lance was Lance - beautiful, charming, insufferable Lance. When they stumbled back to Lance’s place, tangled together, Keith was sure he was going to burn it down with the heat Lance stirred in him. His magic threatened to pour out of his very being, his control hanging on a thread as Lance demanded every ounce of it.

Lance left marks on him that lingered for days, a living phantom of their night together. (He forgot to spell them away from view on the third day after, which lead to some choice jokes from Shiro.)

Keith worries his lip. He wants to say that’s all that keeps him at bay, but he knows better. It’s the… wanting. It takes him now, coursing faintly through his veins as he remembers the world shifting, becoming nothing but the welcome heat of Lance’s attention. If Keith had wanted Lance before, it was a damp spark compared to the blaze that haunts him in the aftermath. Lance could devour Keith if he’d let him and gods, he would let him.

It was all far more intimate than Keith was prepared for, opening something he wasn’t sure he was ready to unpack just yet.

Pidge flops back down onto the couch, popcorn in hand. Keith flushes, pushing away the memory.

“Dude! You didn’t pause the movie?” She reaches over, grabs the remote from Keith’s hand to rewind.

“Hey, uh, Pidge? Maybe I’m a little in love with Lance, actually.”

“No shit. Now shut up, Jeff Goldblum, one of the most proficient witches of our time, is speaking, you fool,” she says. Keith stares at the screen, mind elsewhere. Okay. He’s in love with Lance. What now?

 

* * *

 

“Mrs. Yoon! Awake again?” He says. She turns to him, warm recognition on her face.

“Keith! I thought you’d be back on the day shift by now?” She says. Keith keeps a careful smile on his face, checking her clipboard.

“Nope, not yet. Hey, how’s your hip feeling?” He notes Lance’s initials on the board as he sets it down. _Of course, idiot, that’s his job._ He bites down the urge to roll his eyes at himself.

“Oh, it’s fine. Everyone’s making a big fuss of it, but I’m fine!” She says, waving her hand dismissively.

“We can’t help but worry, Mrs. Yoon, you took a bad fall. We have to monitor you for a few more days, then we can get you back home,” he says, coming up to the edge of the bed. “Anything I can do for you?”

He smiles at her, and it’s genuine. She’s arguably his favorite patient. He often wonders if this is what his grandmother would be like, if he had known his mother’s family.

“Would you mind opening my window for me, dear?”

“Of course, Mrs. Yoon,” he says, hand already up and opening them with a wave.

“Oh! And can yo-,” and he nods, already knowing what she wants.

He calls forth his magic, heating the blanket for her as the amber studs in his ears glow faintly. She smiles, content, as she thanks him.

“You’re such a good boy. Handsome and smart, too. You remind me so much of my grandson. He’s _also_ married to a doctor,” she says, sinking into the comfort of her blankets. He smiles graciously, if tightly, nodding as he makes for the door.

“You’re uh, you’re too kind, Mrs. Yoon. But I’m not married to a doctor, or at all,” he says. She levels him with a steady gaze, one that warms his insides uncomfortably. _Why won’t anyone leave it alone?_

“Keith?” She calls, just before he leaves. He turns back, wary.

“Yes?”

“ _He’s a doctor,_ ” she says, a knowing smile on her lips. He shakes his head, warmth at the tips of his ears.

“I know, Mrs. Yoon,” and he hurries out.

 _Enough_.

 

* * *

 

Rome wasn’t built in a day, and all that. Keith still actively avoids Lance, but at least he’s back on the day shift. He’s also, much to his apprehension, removed the confusion on Lance’s office. That was a few days ago, and Keith remains on edge, wondering when Lance will seek him out. _Oh gods, will he make_ me _seek_ him _out?_ The thought sends a chill through him, but he knows he has to; it’s been three weeks now.

He finishes his rounds in a daze, lip bitten red by the time he’s slipping on his jacket and heading to the garage. Idly, he toys with the stud in his ear as he walks. _What do I even say to him? ‘Sorry I have commitment issues and no one’s ever felt right the way you and I do so it scared the shit out of me.’_ He groans, pushing the door to the stairwell a little too forcefully as he walks. _‘Sorry I’m a weirdo and super into the whole vampire thing, please bite me again?’_ He exhales, shaking his head. He’s going to need to do it eventually, he can’t keep on like this. If he’s being honest, he misses Lance. It’s a physical thing, an ache in his chest, a bodily want, and he’s tired of dancing around it.

As if summoned, Lance appears before him. At the end of the garage, Lance stands outside his car, (some fancy luxury vehicle that only a well endowed immortal could afford, typical) adjusting his stupid, perfect hair. Keith’s heart leaps to his throat, nerves knotting in his stomach. _Shit. Well, better now than never, then._

Keith takes a deep breath, pushing down the nerves as he forces himself into a casual stroll toward Lance.

“Thought vampires couldn’t see their reflections?” He says, smirking when Lance straightens in shock. A rush of things Keith can’t name flit over Lance’s expression before it settles on the lopsided, self-assured grin he favors. _Bastard, he’s so pretty_ . The nerves in his core contest against the cool smirk on his lips, and he wills them to still. Spells have expanded to help students handle test anxiety and surgeons to have a steady hand, and yet nothing in his repertoire prepares him for the jittery energy that comes with seeing Lance again, with _talking_ to him again.

“That’s a gross stereotype you’re perpetuating there, Keith. I only can’t see my reflection in surfaces backed with silver,” he says, eyes appraising Keith. Keith swallows, dizziness creeping at the edge of his consciousness. Expectation paints itself across Lance’s features, and uncertainty tempts him to run. He sighs, clenching a fist.

Stupid, he’s being stupid.

“Lance, can we talk?” He says, words rushed. A crack in Lance’s calm exterior, a sigh mirroring relief, and miraculously, he agrees.

“Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Part two should be up within the next week! :)


End file.
